


Woof

by squeakylids



Series: A mutt's life [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bobby has a secret, F/M, Family Secrets, Fluff, Gen, Ghouls, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Dean Winchester, Papa Bobby, Protective Bobby Singer, Rating May Change, Secrets, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Tags May Change, Warnings May Change, Werewolf, Werewolf Reveal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2018-12-22 02:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11957484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeakylids/pseuds/squeakylids
Summary: Bobby has a secret, one that's been in plain view as long as the boys have known him.Or, Bobby has a hunting partner that's a large black dog. He's had one as long as he'd been hunting and as far back as Dean can remember.





	1. Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> These are a collection of drabbles bouncing around in my head. Each chapter can be viewed as its own random point in time, not really following a specific course.

The cold wet nose against my cheek caused me to crack an eye open.  When I felt it nudge into me, I turned to look at the culprit even as she stared at me with adoring brown eyes.  The moment I looked over I could see her tail start wagging gently as she pushed her nose more incessantly into my stubble covered skin.

With a grunt, I brought my hand up to pat Dakota's sleek black head, which she leaned into adoringly.

As long as I had known Bobby he'd had a version of Dakota in one way or another; a huge black shaggy mutt with bright eyes and alert ears.  I'd asked him about it once when he'd taken the dog on a hunt, and he'd told me that it was easier to remember one name and set of commands for his hunting partner than a bunch in his old age.  Also, it made people wonder he said, because for as long as anyone could remember he'd apparently had the same dog.  He'd had other junk yard dogs over the years too, a big Rottie named Rumsfeld had been his most recent, but none of them were quite like his various Dakota's. 

Sitting up, I groaned at my stiff back, silently cursing myself for having fallen asleep on the couch again.  Especially when Bobby's spare room essentially belonged to me and Sam given how often we were at his place.  I'd been watching Die Hard drinking a beer to cope with my insomnia so I didn't keep Sam up and must have fallen asleep sometime between yippee kay yay and Hans falling off the roof.  Bobby's big dog had joined me on the couch when I'd settled in, her head resting on my lap so I could easily pet her as she seemed to watch the movie with me.  It had been a welcome comfort, her quiet presence.

All my life, since I had met Bobby as a kid, I had taken comfort in his hunting dog.  The first time dad had dumped us at Bobby's I'd been pissed and had taken off into the salvage yard in a fit of childish rage.  I'd gotten horribly lost in the maze of cars and, thinking I was alone, I'd sat down and cried against the rusted metal hulk of an old Chevy.  

That was when I had first met Dakota.

It wasn't until I was older that I really appreciated that meeting with that eternally playful version of her.  She had crawled on her belly with her tail wagging and her demeanor goofy when she had realized I was scared of her.  The animal had done everything in her doggy power to show that she was unthreatening to me, overcoming my childhood misgivings.  When she'd won me over she had licked away my tears. She had then done everything in her doggy capabilities to get me to laugh before dutifully leading me back to the house.  I'd been scared that Bobby was going to be mad at me, but he'd just smiled and patted the dog, introducing me to Dakota officially.

I'd been fast friends with "Dakota" ever since.  No matter what version of her he had, from the playful thing of my childhood to the shy thing he'd had in my teens, we'd been fairly inseparable whenever I was around.  Whenever I was here since that first meeting by that old Chevy, Dakota was almost always within arms reach.

This current version of her easily weighed over 120lbs, the same big shaggy black look he always went for as well, down to the perky ears.  She sat patiently waiting for me to finish scrubbing my hand over my sleepy face before she gave a little woof and dragged her tongue over my cheek in a doggy kiss good morning.  Standing I rubbed her head between her ears again before I moved to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, glancing out the window at the pinkening early morning sky.  I could hear Bobby moving around his room, and I was grateful that the dog had woken me before he had caught me out on the couch... again.  I wasn't really in the mood for a lecture.

It had been a quiet week, which I was grateful for.  Sam and I honestly needed a bit of a break, not that I would ever admit it to him.  I never liked to admit that I was tired because the moment I did it made me start thinking of everything I was tired of.  There was no point in dwelling on those missing aspects of my life; the wife and kids with the yard and the picket fence that I was never going to have.  Nothing was going to change because I was who I was, and that was a soldier.

Always a soldier.

The coffee was almost done when Bobby came in, absently patting Dakota on the head as he moved about getting her breakfast ready.  She wove around us, licking her chops in anticipation.  I grinned as I poured the coffee as she rubbed up against us affectionately, excited for the chicken and greens Bobby was prepping for her. The damned dog ate better than we did most days, but with all the various times his various mutts had unexpectedly come to our aide over the years I couldn't really begrudge Bobby for spoiling her.  He'd always claimed it wasn't fair to ask her to do the same job he did and not at least feed her well.  Setting her food down, he turned to grab the coffee I had prepared for him before eyeing me critically.

"Did you sleep in your clothes last night?"

The note of distaste in Bobby's voice had me cringe into my mug before looking up at him.  He opened his mouth to say something else at my look of guilt, only to be interrupted by an almost chastising woof.  He speared Dakota with a glare from where she was looking at him, and if a dog could look annoyed, she did.

"What?" He demanded.

She talked back to him.  There was no other way I could describe it.  Her tail was wagging slightly and she made a series of noises that could almost be thought to contain words, and even her tone apparently had censure in it.  I always teased Bobby that she was like this because he treated her like a person, and to be fair it was cute when they did this.  It always seemed to make the old man secretly happy and I had seen more than one of these "conversations" go on for a while.

"Oh, really?  You don't say."

She did it again, and Bobby rolled his eyes, turning back to his coffee in apparent defeat.  It earned him a satisfied woof before she went back to eating, and I chuckled.

"I swear that damned girl likes you better than I do more and more."  he muttered into the brew.

I laughed,  "Chick's dig me, man, what can I say?  Don't worry though, you'll always be her daddy."

He snorted, causing himself to choke on the hot beverage under his nose.  Suddenly Dakota moved to be in front of him, worriedly pushing her nose into his stomach as he sputtered and coughed.  He patted her head reassuringly even as he turned bright red, almost retching from the coffee in the wrong tube.

"You gonna die on me?"  I asked with another laugh as I sipped my drink, slightly wondering if I would actually need to intervene, relieved when he shook his head.

When he finally caught his breath Dakota had her entire head resting in his lap, alert ears perked forward and eyes glued on his face as he wiped at the tears that had formed.  The look was pure, unadulterated concern.  The kind of love that clearly said the mutt would always try and put herself between Bobby and any threat, myself included.

I motioned to her with my mug to prove my point,  "There, you see?  She adores you."


	2. Ghoul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blurb from a Ghoul mission with Bobby.

I didn't even have time to yell as the ghoul leaped out from the shadows and tackled me with the size and skill of a goddamned linebacker.  The thing carried me hard into the crumbling old plaster wall of the Victorian we had finally been led to on the edges of a cemetery that was supposed to be "out of use".  Apparently, it was only "out of use" unless you were dumping bodies of victims for a local lowlife, which in turn was feeding ghouls, which in turn were creating more victims.

We'd really stepped in it this time.

I heard my ribs crack even as pain shot like lightning through my side.  We had collided with a solid table as the monster finished slamming us through the wall, causing me to drop like a stone.  It knocked the wind out of me, my vision going white as the shock of the blow and the damage it caused hit me.  As the thing reared back above me I realized that whatever happened next was going to _suck_ , because in that moment I couldn't defend myself.

Fuck me.  Dean Winchester taken out by a ghoul.  Who'd ever guessed that one?

The blow I was expecting never got the opportunity to land.  My vision was suddenly filled with the snarling wrath that was the black form of Dakota.  She seemed almost bigger somehow as she knocked the big body off of me with a snarl that made my lizard brain shiver on instinct.  The ghoul screamed in rage as she was all over him, claws raking and jaws snapping as she made noises I had never heard before as she attacked like a wild animal.  The ghoul stood no chance, and I watching in horrified astonishment as she managed to clamp her huge jaws around his the back of his head and neck.  She locked down and shook him so violently I was surprised she was able to hold on.

With a sickening crunch, the Ghoul stopped moving.  Dakota went very still, almost as if she was making sure the thing was dead before she released her jaws.  The things head hit the ground with a wet thwack, and when it stayed quiet, she turned to me.

The huge dog hesitated across the room, almost as if she was afraid of how I was going to react to her now, her body posture cowed.  After all, I had just watched her kill a monster with jaws that she had used to playfully grasp my arm when we wrestled.  It was an interesting riddle, trusting an animal that I had just witnessed be a savage ruthless killer to never hurt me.

I reached out to her, telling her she was a good dog softly, for talking _hurt_  like a _motherfucker_.  She wagged her tail cautiously, her entire body posture relaxing as she trotted over to me.  As she licked tentatively at my face with her bloody muzzle I patted her reassuringly, honestly grateful for the intervention.  She sniffed me all over, reminding me of Sam when he looked me over for an injury, whining when I winced as I shifted.  The movement brought back the pain and I grunted, unsure how I was going to get up until Dakota pushed her massive head under my arm, bracing herself so that I could use her as leverage.  Those intelligent eyes of hers told me she wasn't going to leave my side, and not for the first time I was grateful for Bobby's dog.

Together we hobbled away from the corpse of the ghoul she had so impressively killed to go find Bobby and Sam.


	3. Miss Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam stake out a strip club called the Blue Parrot and see a dancer with an interesting stage name and a more intriguing tattoo.

Sometimes, my job was awesome.

Those times included when our investigations included time in strip clubs.  If I ever found a strip club that served pie I would be in heaven.

Sam and I were mostly playing FBI again, but for this particular place, we were also scouting the local titty bar in plain clothes.  Considering two of the victims had ties to the place, although one was a customer and another was a dancer, it was a worthwhile check-out.

This place was one of the "classier" places we'd been, complete with a little "show" every 15 minutes.  It was one of those things where one of the girls would do a little routine in the spotlight on the center stage.  I had to admit, the dancers were talented enough to occasionally make me forget that we were in a titty bar.  It was one of the few times I could really appreciate the term exotic dancer.

And let me tell you, I was appreciating it.

We'd been there for a little over an hour when the DJ came over the speakers to announce the next act.

"Well Gentlemen, we have been promising you something new, and here she is!  Let's give a big warm welcome to the newest girl to the Blue Parrot, Miss Dakota!"

The name caught my interest, simply due to its familiarity, and so my attention was focused on that center stage when the curtain came up.  Suddenly I was cursing the fact that I wasn't on the tip rail when the spotlight caught the glorious creature that was going to be entertaining us.

She had a waterfall of hair down to her ass and curves that would send a priest to confession.  Blow job eyes and a sinful mouth completed the utter decadence that was the woman.  Almost perpetually grumpy Sammy even perked up at the sight of her, letting out a low whistle as she started moving to the music.  Her body moved even better than I had hoped it would, strong muscles playing under the satin of her skin making me drool.  I wanted to feel that dark hair in my hands and rub against that pale skin, breath in her scent which I could only assume was as mouth watering as she was.  When she grabbed the pole I knew that I wasn't going to have a pure thought again any time soon.

Fuck, and I'd thought that Lisa had been flexible.

I was not the only one in the room who thought as much either, judging by the reaction of the crowd.  Breaking my gaze away from her for a moment I scanned the room again, trying to keep an eye out for anyone that looked as if it could be our culprit but saw nothing out of the ordinary.  To be fair, I wasn't looking too hard.  Who wanted to look away from the sensuous display on the center stage?!

Having my mind back on the job did shake me back to sense a bit, and so when I looked back at the stage, I realized that her scan of the crowd was a little more calculating than normal.  She turned at one point, doing a sexy little move with an ass that made you grateful to not be blind, lifting her mane of hair out of the way to add to the effect when I saw it.  That little patch of ink that tended to drive men wild, right above the cleft of an ass that made you want to cry.  Sam must have realized what he was looking at the same moment I did, for we immediately reached out to grasp at the other's arm, our eyes still glued on the figure on stage.

Tramp stamps have always been a weakness for me, but that was not the reason I was paying attention to it.

Well... that was an interesting place for an anti-possession tattoo.

Jerking my head to the side stage where a spot had just opened on the rail, Sam and I moved, knowing that the girls rotated stages before working the floor.

I wanted a closer look at that ink.

It was a few minutes before she made her appearance, and part of me was wondering if maybe I had imagined the details I had seen.  I mean, what honestly were the chances of a stripper having a real anti-possession tattoo?  It was probably just something that she got because it looked occult.  It wouldn't be the first time.

She struck me dumb again when she started moving, making her way around the stage to the dark spot that Sam and I had managed to squeeze into.  She wasn't sparing with the dark looks heavy with false promises and seductive little smiles as people dropped their cash on the rail.  It wasn't until I met her eyes dark that I came back into myself.

But that was probably due to the look of utter shock that crossed her face when she saw us.  She recovered quickly, I had to give her that, barely missing a beat in her moves.  The damage had been done though, and I knew that there was something else going on.  When she finally crawled across the space of stage to lean in-between us, I wasn't too surprised when she spoke without pretense.

"My my, the fabled Winchesters,"  she said, just loud enough for us to hear her.  She then leaned back, running her hands over her body as if she was still giving us a show, complete with a suggestive wink.  "Fancy meeting the two of you in a place like this.  Wait a minute?  I'd like to give you guys a private show, some place where you can whisper all your dirty secrets."

Her tone did not match the smile on her face, and without waiting for an answer she turned away from us and finished her routine.  The tattoo was definitely an anti-possession tattoo and an elaborate one at that.  Which meant we were dealing with another hunter and one that was obviously familiar with Sammy and me.  We were probably honestly hunting the same thing, and I was wondering if she was wanting to join forces.

She never did show back up.  We even asked for her after a while.  It took tipping another one of the girls $60, but she told us that the girl known as "Miss Dakota" had slipped out the back door right after her last stage performance, and it didn't look like she planned on coming back.  No one there really knew anything about her either, so Sam and I bounced after that, both more than a little concerned that not only had we been made instantly, but that she had vanished.  Could that mean she was our killer?

Although why a killer would have an anti-possession tattoo was a new one to me.

The next morning we met up with Bobby and the real Dakota.  She was more than excited to see us, jumping up to rest her paws on my shoulders as she licked my face. It did a pretty good job of reminding me how huge she was, even if it made Bobby laugh.  We honestly were a little surprised when he called us, saying that he'd seen the Impala at the local Motel and realized we were working the same job.  As we discussed the case over take out lunch and beer, we told him about the other hunter we'd seen and her slightly surprising vanishing act.

"Pretty thing, hair down to her ass, anti-possession tattoo in the small of her back?"  he asked, frowning at the information.  Dakota wuffed lightly at him from where she was digging into the burger Bobby had grabbed for her, apparently affronted at his tone.  "She was working as a stripper?"

"Yeah, we saw her at the place where two of the vics are from.  Why, you know her?"  I asked as I took a pull of the beer I had opened as we had our little pow-wow.

"Name's Anne-Marie.  If she recognized you it doesn't surprise me that she split,"  he said with a casual shrug.  "She likes to work alone, keep her jobs small.  She knows who you boys are, probably figured if you were around you had it handled."

"Aww man, that sucks," I took another pull, "she was hot."

Bobby frowned at me, "I wouldn't go sniffing there.  You're probably never gonna see her again."

"Shame," Sam intoned quietly, sipping his beer as he looked thoughtful, "she was _really_  hot."


	4. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John forgets Dean's 8th Birthday.

My dad missed my first birthday when I was eight. It was one of those times he had dumped us off at Bobby's for an extended stay, promising that it would be no more than a couple of weeks.

When my birthday dawned a little under three weeks later, I had expected to wake up to Dad sitting at the kitchen table with a grin and a "happy birthday Dean!"

Imagine the disappointment of an eight-year-old kid when his dad never shows on his birthday; doesn't even bother to call. Sammy was only four, he had no idea what a calendar was yet, so it wasn't like I had expected him to remember. And I hadn't even met Bobby until just six months previously. The only one who seemed to notice what day it was, was me. I can't think of a single time in my childhood after my mother died that I really felt so crushed as for that birthday to pass by as if it was just another day.

Honestly, it kinda cemented my place in the world for me.

Dakota had picked up pretty quick that I was upset after that. She had tried in her playful way to cheer me up, bringing me toys, making weird noises and tumbling all over herself. She'd managed to get me to pull halfheartedly on a rope toy, but quickly gave up the game when she realized I wasn't into it. Finally, ears down, she came over and rested her head on my lap as I sat out in the yard, my back against the familiar Chevy where I'd first met her. She looked up at me and whined lightly, and I started to cry as I pet her.

"Yesterday was my birthday, Dakota," I whispered.

She moved, pushing up into me and crawling more solidly into my lap as she licked all over my teary face. She was making concerned little sounds at my distress, and I just broke at the fact that she cared. Digging my fingers into her scruff I held that dog for dear life as I just unloaded like a big baby into her coat. I was screaming and wailing and sobbing, snot bubbles galore, and that sweet mutt didn't once try to pull away. She huddled her furry body into me like an anchor point as I clung to her and just sobbed my guts out.

I don't know how long we sat there, but I finally cried myself to the point of tired. All I really wanted was a glass of water and a nap because there was no way to undo what had happened. My birthday had come and gone and no one cared, especially not my dad.

Dakota took off to the house ahead of me, so I stopped by one of the faucets outside to rinse off my messy face and get a drink. I didn't want Bobby to see me and know I had been crying like a little baby, especially because I always made fun of Sam when he was being a crybaby. I _especially_  didn't want Sam to know I'd been crying, because then I would have to tell him what had happened. It would make him cry too. Sam hated it when I was sad, so I tried to be strong for him because that's what big brothers did. Big brothers didn't cry over things like forgotten birthdays. 

As I finally neared the house, taking my time for my hot face to cool down and dry off, I saw Bobby sitting on the steps leading to the door. Dakota was nowhere in sight.

Bobby had a peculiar look on his face, and it caused me to stop dead in my tracks. Part of me wanted to run and hide when he slowly stood up, his face very serious as he walked down the gravel to stand before me. He seemed to almost hesitate as he looked down at me, but he then brought a hand gently to my shoulder, holding me there, cutting off my chance to flee. There was something in his expression that made a knot start forming in my throat.

"Dean, was yesterday your birthday?"

And just like that, my facade crumbled and I was crying like a baby again.


	5. Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean depresses himself a little thinking about being an average joe.

I was always grateful that Bobby let me use his yard to my heart's content to work on Baby.  There was something weirdly calming about doing my annual checks on a nice late spring day with nothing pressing happening. I could take my time, truly indulge in the work of art that was my Baby.  Fluid changes, tire rotation, body inspection; all the little things needed to keep a sleek machine like Baby in optimum performance condition.  During the work I was completely focused and relaxed, my mind blissfully free of anything other than the project in front of me.  It was like friggin' therapy. 

From the shade of the carport, Dakota watched me through happy pants and a doggy squint, completely relaxed and happy to keep me company.

It was one of the few moments in life I felt normal.  Just a guy with a dog working on his car on a Saturday afternoon listening to good tunes.  Nothing interesting at all to see here folks, just a normal average joe doing normal average joe stuff.  No monsters, no demons or angels, no doom and gloom looming overhead.  Just me, my car, and the dog being regular folks. 

It was nice to pretend.

Working on cars was something I could easily see myself doing if hunting wasn't something that existed.  I liked working on cars, seeing something broken get fixed under my hands.  It was the only time I really got to.  More often than not my hands were holding a gun instead of a wrench, covered in blood instead of oil.  If the world was a good and happy place, I'd like to think this would be my normal instead.  I'd like to think Sammy would be a great lawyer or something by now, probably helping refugees or homeless kids or something equally amazing and selfless with an amazing girl at his side.  I'd like to think I'd have a place with a dog and I would get a chance to see my mother at least once a month.  Maybe get a steady girl, someone I could be sweet on and come home to every night.  Have a nice ordinary life, kids and full family holidays, the works.  All the things I would never get to have.  The life that Sammy and I would never get to live. 

At some point, I had stopped working, lost in thought.  I must have been staring off into the distance for a while, rubbing my hands with a cleaning rag absentmindedly, before Dakota brought me back to the present.

She was looking at me with big soulful eyes as she came to rest her chin on my forearm as I stood there, her tail giving the most hesitant of wags.  I dropped my hand to her head, giving her a smile that I couldn't keep a bit of melancholy out of as I rubbed between her ears. 

"If only, huh girl?"  I said.

She lifted her head quizzically, but I didn't elaborate, even when she nosed me.  Instead, I turned to the house, giving her a final pat.  "Come on mutt, I need a beer."


	6. Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dakota gets wounded by a scared victim

It was like slow motion, watching the girl we had come and fought so hard to save scoop my gun off the ground.  In an instant, she was aiming at Dakota as the big dog came loping into the room, not realizing that the big animal was not one of her kidnappers.  With a scream of pure terror ripping from her throat, I watched her pull the trigger, and the air shattered.

Her first shot went wide, causing the dog to startle, wide eyes flying to the girl.  For a split second, I thought maybe the worst wasn't going to happen as Dakota spun to flee, realizing the danger.  Unfortunately, even as I yelled out my denial at what was happening, the big dog let out a pained cry and crumpled to the ground, the second shot hitting its intended target.  It was like watching a horror movie as the screaming, crying blonde collegiate put two more rounds in the animal.  An animal that had been instrumental in saving her.

I was scrambling across the floor to the whimpering dog even as Sam wrestled the gun away from the hysterical girl, Bobby bursting into the room.

"What happened?!"  Bobby demanded as his head whipped around, trying to take in the scene.

"She shot Dakota."  I hissed through gritted teeth, not looking up at him as I ripped off my flannel to push the fabric against the bleeding holes in the side of the dog's abdomen.  One of the rounds had been in the meat of the dog's thigh, but the other two...

Bobby was suddenly on his knees on the other side of the black form, his eyes frantic and his face pale.  His hands were suddenly shoving mine out of the way to take over putting pressure on the wounds.

I have never seen Bobby look so desperate as the moment he looked up at me, demanding to know,  "Silver?!"

Huh?

"Were you loaded with silver?!"  he asked frantically, his eyes searching my face.  I felt my mouth move to answer, but nothing came out.  We'd been hunting werewolves, _of course_  I'd been loaded with silver.

Bobby lifted a hand, red with the dog's blood, and grasped my shoulder harshly.  "I need a med kit, NOW."  When I didn't immediately move he gave me a harsh shake. "Dean, _please_!  I have to save her!"

What?

"DEAN!"  Sam's voice broke through my stunned immobility, and I turned to look at him where he had his arms full of hysterical blonde.  "Get her out of here, I'll help Bobby."

I didn't argue, instead, I moved quickly and hauled the sobbing girl to her feet even as Sam moved to Bobby and Dakota.  My brother's voice was murmuring soothing things to the injured animal as he looked at the damage even as I led the girl away.  Dakotas pained whimpers followed us as we moved purposefully down the hall, away from the scene I didn't want to think about too hard.

"Oh my god, I shot your dog!"  the girl wailed between sobs,  "I shot your dog!"


	7. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean walk in on Anne-Marie literally dancing like no one is watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to the song Lotion by Greenskeepers for this, but whichever song makes you dance like an idiot is the one you should envision.

We weren't scheduled to be at Bobby's for another day or two, so it wasn't too surprising to find Bobby's truck gone and no sign of him or Dakota in the area. He was probably just doing a bit of a supply run, considering I knew he'd just wrapped up a hunt and never liked to leave re-stocking to later. Using the key the old man had given me, Sam and I let ourselves in, expecting to find the place an empty mess. We did not expect to open the door and find ourselves greeted with the back of a dancing girl.

Having seen how Anne-Marie could move on stage, all mouth-watering sensuality, seeing her dance for real was... hilarious.

It probably helped that she had no idea she had an audience either, considering the scene.

Don't get me wrong, she was still sexy as shit. She was wearing one of _my_  shirts that I had left behind at Bobby's ages ago, white tube socks... and it didn't look like much else, which made me want to fall to my knees and praise Jesus. Her long ass hair was pulled into a sloppy mess on the back of her head, an old aviator headset covering her ears plugged into the iPod in her hand. She was all smooth skin and long legs and my shirt and I wanted to do terrible things to her in a very visceral way. Seeing this side of her, after seeing that temptress on stage that left me and Sammy hanging, made her that much hotter. This was a girl that I was definitely gonna try and get to know... better.

Right after I got done trying not to laugh and alert her that she was putting on a little show for me and Sammy.

She was so _into_  whatever she was listening to I couldn't bring myself to interrupt. Her head was bobbing from side to side, face scrunched up and lips pursed as she occasionally lip-synched to whatever was playing in her ears. She would alternate from random hand gestures to air drumming to occasionally snapping her fingers, all while her shoulders rotated and her torso swayed. Hips sashayed side to side as she supported herself on the balls of her feet, knees occasionally knocking together comically. It was a weird mix of sensual movement and the movements of someone who was literally dancing as if she thought no one was watching.

It was one of those rare moments where I got to see someone really being completely who they were without any preamble or mask. In this instant, Anne-Marie was simply Anne-Marie and nothing more.

In the next instant though, she proved she was one of us.

Suddenly she was moving faster than I thought possible, diving behind the couch. Before Sammy or I could react she was popping up again, the headset dangling around her neck, her expression grim as she aimed a shotgun right at us from where she was taking cover and then... blinked.

"Dean?" Her voice was incredulous. She glanced over my shoulder with a confused frown, "Sam... what the...?"

"Uh... hi?" I knew Sam gave her a little wave with that.

She just blinked at us for a second, her face adorably confused even as the shotgun unconsciously lowered. Seeming to come back to herself she glanced around the room, swallowing nervously before glancing down at herself. It took a moment, but suddenly she was turning red as a cherry. I think that was the moment she realized that we had been privy to her little 'show'.

"I should probably put on pants," she mumbled, refusing to meet our eyes as she stood and quickly bolted for the hall.


	8. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenagers aren't supposed to be afraid of the dark.

Summer vacation was either the best or the worst time for my father when it came to us.  Before he'd met Bobby he'd taken us all over the place with him, and not generally to places that had a pool.  That meant I had to put up with Sammy constantly complaining as we were holed up in shitty hotel rooms with crappy AC, trying to keep the peace between a bored little brother and a highly irritable father.  Since he'd met Bobby though, well, let's just say we had a new 'Singer Summer Camp' schedule.

At fourteen I was a sullen kid, just starting to bloom into the overconfident prick I saw in the mirror in the mornings, but not all the times back then were bad.  Especially not those days spent with the old Hunter.

Bobby had dragged me and Sammy into the woods on a hunting trip that summer, but not monster hunting.  Real hunting, deer specifically.  It was the first time I learned how to track and build a camp, find running water and tell direction.  I learned what could be foraged for food and what was poisonous.  Dakota sniffed out trails for us, and Bobby taught us how to follow them.  The first day we had done the obligatory bitching and grumbling, but soon we'd shut up because we were having the time of our lives out in those woods.

At night though... I never wanted to admit how vulnerable I felt sleeping out in the forest at night.  Without the enclosure of walls around me, even a tent, I felt like everything was out to get me.  I told myself that drywall wasn't really any protection from the monsters in the dark, much less nylon.  Still, I couldn't help but feel completely exposed as I lay in my sleeping bag around the banked remnants of the campfire that first night.

Across the campfire Bobby and Sammy were dead asleep, the tops of their heads almost touching.  Sam had gone to sleep quickly once he'd laid down, fairly exhausted from the miles we had hiked into the dense trees.  I was happy that Sammy at least was getting some rest though.  At first, I had been a little worried that he was going to be terrified out here by every little unknown night sound, kept up by childish fears.  Luckily he seemed to trust in Bobby enough to sleep soundly.  I was grateful that at least one of us was getting some rest.

At Bobby's feet on her own mat lay Dakota, but she wasn't asleep.  Her dark eyes were watching me as I lay there restlessly, tossing and turning, trying to pretend I wasn't afraid.

No fourteen year old is afraid of the dark damnit, _especially_  not Dean Winchester.

I felt a little bad at my pulse jumping at the sight of Dakota suddenly standing over me, and tried to keep down the startled yelp I let out.  She lowered her ears at my reaction, but to be fair the huge leggy, lanky animal looked like a freaking gigantic black wolf.  I'd like to think that anyone would be startled if she just suddenly appeared over the top of them.

My reaction didn't deter her from her goal though.  She just stepped over me to lay down so that she was between me and the dark trees that surrounded us.  Nuzzling into me she swiped a quick lick over my cheek before sighing and settling in.  Dakota was stretched out the length of me, creating a barrier of muscle and fur and teeth between me and the encroaching darkness of the edge of the camp.  My hand buried itself in her shaggy fur, and I felt her relax under my fingers, her body settling more comfortably against me.  I was immensely beholden to her solid presence as I was lulled to sleep by her steady breathing, suddenly not so worried about the monsters in the dark.


	9. Beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fight with his Dad about Sammy wanting to go to college when they are at Bobby's, Dean has to cool down.
> 
> Companion Chapter: Pup: The difference

Just because I wasn't technically old enough to buy beer didn't mean I didn't have a fake ID that said otherwise.  Not that the guy behind the counter looked like he would have carded me anyway, given his alarmed expression at my dark mood.  He passed a cursory glance at the ID I slammed down along with the cash for the six-pack, apparently too scared of me to look away from my face for long.  He rang me up with a quickness as I scowled at him, the door slamming as I stormed out of the liquor store with my beer in hand, Baby peeling out of the parking lot.

God _damn_  dad.

Why was it so bad that Sam wanted to go to school?  Sam was brilliant, it had been obvious that the nerd had been meant for great things.  So what if he didn't want to be a hunter like me and Dad?  Was that really so bad?  It had only been last year that Sam had nearly bled to death on a vampire hunt.  Dad claimed he wanted to keep Sammy safe, but that was getting harder and harder to believe, considering how _unsafe_  we always found ourselves.  Why couldn't we be like Bobby?  Get a place to have a base of operations, somewhere to call home?  We could have a regular place to hole up, Sammy could go to college, Dad and I could still go out and hunt.  If Bobby could do it, why the hell couldn't we?  We could keep doing the family business, Sam could go to school, maybe hunt on the weekends or something, and everyone would be happy.  Things could be perfect.

I pulled off the main road and drove aimlessly until my headlights illuminated a large, still, body of water.  Turning off the ignition I killed the lights and stepped out into the darkness.  There was nothing except for me, the stars, crickets, frogs and the cooling tick of the engine.

I let out a yell.

Complete still silence greeted the last echo of my voice, and for a moment I reveled in it.  Sitting down so I could still watch the still water, occasionally broken by the ripples of a landing night insect, I opened my first beer.

As I swallowed the dregs of my third I realized I wasn't alone, but the presence wasn't unwelcome.  When I patted the ground next to me Dakota materialized as if out of the mist rising up from the water.  I don't know how long she had been hovering behind me in the dark, but she was at least one thing I trusted to not leap out of the blackness and try and gut me.

She gave my cheek her customary lick before she sat down, her head cocking to the side as she studied me with her brand of concerned canine curiosity.  There was a little kernel of guilt buried in my chest from having left her behind when I had stormed out of the argument at Bobby's.  This very wolf-like Dakota was pretty much my shadow whenever we were around, and to be fair she was the closest thing I had to a real friend.  With the beer starting to truly take its hold, I slung an around her neck and pressed my forehead to hers.

"You're a good girl, Dakota."

She gave my face another lick, which got me to smile.  Letting her go I reached for my fourth beer, looking back over the water as I sipped at it in drunken thoughtfulness.

"You wanna run away with me?"  I asked quietly.

She made a small noise, part worry, part canine curiosity.  I chuckled.  No matter what version of her, Bobby's dog's always seemed to encourage me to talk.  I wondered if it was because of the way Bobby always talked to her as if she was a person, but it made my one-sided conversations with her feel less... one-sided.

"Yeah,"  I continued, taking another sip,  "we could go west or something.  How do you feel about California?  Sammy wants to go to college out there.  We could get a job somewhere on the beach, just a little place, you, me and Sam.  I can work on cars or work a bar or something and we can be normal.  They always talk about how hard it is to afford a place to live when you're in school, you know?"

She made a little whimpering sound, and suddenly she was worming into my lap.  Her big body was pinning my legs to the dirt and the late night chill I hadn't noticed seeping into my bones started getting chased away by her warmth.  She pushed her head under my free hand in obvious demands for pets and gave me the 'sad eyes' that I was sure she had taught Sammy at some point.  I chuckled into my beer again as I started scratching her head, causing her to let out a doggy sigh of contentment as she relaxed.

With her settled, I started to babble about this imaginary fantastical life of ours on the beach.  Her presence, and the beer, were good at getting my mind off my anger as I described how we would go play frisbee on the beach every weekend and have BBQ's in the backyard with Sammy and all of his college buddies.  She just lay there contentedly listening as I pet her and waxed poetic about a life I knew nothing about.

But it was the kind of simple life I secretly really wanted to have. 


	10. Hello?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very short snippet of a call for help.

"Hey, man, what's up?"  I asked as I answered the phone on the second ring, recognizing the familiar number.

Silence greeted me.

"Bobby?"

A shuddered breath answered and an alarm blared through my brain.  I snapped my fingers to get Sam's attention from across the room, my voice going hard.

"Hello?!  Who's there?"

"Is this Dean?"  The voice was choked and feminine, and decidedly NOT Bobby.

"Who is this?"  I demanded, adrenaline pumping through me.  Sam moved closer and I pulled the phone away from my ear, hitting speaker so that Sam could hear the voice on the other end.

Another shuddering breath was drawn, and then,  "It's... it's..."  then there was a little sob.

"What's the matter?"  Sam's voice was demanding, but there was nothing but concern dripping off every syllable.  "Is Bobby ok?"

"No," her voice was thick with tears.

"Where are you?  Are you at home?"

I blinked, startled at my brother's question, even as a broken little "Yes" came through over the speaker.

"We're on our way.  We'll be there in a few hours, ok?"  Sam was moving across the room without waiting to hear her affirmation to grab his few possessions like a man possessed.

"Ok,"  her voice was small and tearful,  "Thank you."

The line went dead in my hand, and I was suddenly moving too, grabbing my meager belongings and hitting the road without another word.  There would be plenty of time to talk about what the hell was going on later because Sam had some damned explaining to do. 


	11. Coffee?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean sees someone familiar in town.

Scowling at my scuffed boots as I leaned against the Impala, killing time for the lunch order at the diner to finish up, I sighed in annoyance. Sam and Bobby were holed up together at the yard, pouring over research books, so I had opted for the food run, just to give my damned eyes a break. Now I had at least thirty minutes to kill before the food was ready, and it was giving me time to brood. I didn't like brooding, it made me grumpy, which was why I was always grateful for Dakota's comforting distraction of a presence.

I'd been more than a little disappointed to find that Dakota was nowhere to be found to act as co-pilot on the excursion. Flying solo, I drove into town a little lonely without my wingman. There was no way in hell I was ever gonna tell the old man, but half the reason we had basically moved in with him when we weren't on active hunts, and half the reason we did most of our hunts with him, was because I missed the damned dog whenever we were apart for any length of time. The mutt was almost an extension of myself at this point, and I hated ever having to hunt without her anymore.

I'd never tell Sam this, but if I had to choose between the two I might actually pick Dakota as my backup over him.

A silvery laugh caused me to look up, and my eyes almost fell out of my face when I recognized the young woman standing across the street from me. She was wearing tights and a loose top that seemed to just make her curves that much more enticing, her hair in an incredibly messy bun. Chatting away with two other girls who had exited the dance studio she had obviously just emerged from, she was hauling a gym bag over her shoulder.

Holy _shit_. Anne-Marie. My day was looking up.

I barely even glanced at traffic as I trotted across the street, coming up behind her. One of the girls saw me over her shoulder, immediately elbowing her friend as she gaped at me as I moved up the sidewalk. Her reaction caused Anne-Marie to turn and look at me like a deer suddenly caught in headlights, obviously recognizing me. I just couldn't tell if her startled expression was a good or a bad thing.

"Uh, hi!" I tried with a friendly little wave as I came up to them, "it's, uh, good to see you again?"

"Hey, uh... Dean... umm... wh... what are you doing here?" She asked as she looked at me before she suddenly dropped her gaze and fidgeted, but I was hoping I wasn't reading her sudden blush wrong.

"Oh my god, _t_ _hat's him?!_ " one of the girls, the petite blond with a slight southern accent, squealed in delight before she giggled, nudging Anne-Marie with an elbow quite obviously, "You weren't kidding! Intro-duck-tionioies if you please!"

"Oh, um, yeah," Anne-Marie seemed to shake herself out of her stupor, her pearly teeth digging into her plush lower lip for a moment before she spoke, and I realized I was being a creep and watching her mouth.

"Guys, this is Dean, uh, Dean, these are a couple of girls I teach with at the studio. That's Maggie and Grace," she motioned between the tall brunette and the shorter blonde, both who grinned at me.

"Nice to meet you," I greeted them back with a smirk, a little more confident now as I turned my attention back to the blushing hunter, "So, uh, I was wondering... I have some time to kill before I head back to Bobby's... you maybe wanna grab a coffee or something?"

She opened her mouth to respond when the tall brunette, Maggie, wrapped an arm around her neck from behind and rested her head on her shoulder with a huge smile, "She would _love_  to."

"Maggie!" Anne-Marie gasped, her blush even more pronounced even as Maggie planted a huge kiss on her cheek before turning away with a wave, Grace following her with another giggle and a wave of her own, leaving me alone with Anne-Marie who was still blushing furiously.   
  
I offered her my arm, "So... coffee?"  
  
  



	12. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is late for a date with Anne-Marie and Dakota is the reason why.

I was scowling as I climbed out of Baby onto the main street curb, still more than a little frustrated, and running more than a little late because of my fruitless search for Dakota.

Where _was_  that damned dog?

It was my _fourth_  date with Anne-Marie, and I had been hoping to bring the mutt along this time. I kinda liked the idea of having all my girls in one place, 'ya know? Get them to meet, hope against hope that life could be perfect and that my girls might get along, get that perfect summer cruise down the highway into the sunset and everything.

Call me a chauvinist, but the idea of cruising in my baby with my mutt and my girl was infinitely appealing, and Anne-Marie was _so_  my girl now. She'd been my girl from the moment she'd sat down across from me at the diner for a coffee to wait for that lunch that fateful day in town.

There was something about her, aside from the fact that she was so smokin' hot, that just felt _right_. Like, I felt like I'd known her forever or something, and we just... clicked. I was half in love with the girl before she'd drained her first vanilla milkshake that first chat in the diner, and after a week of sneaking out of Bobby's I was head over heels for the bird. It was the first time in my life I was ever completely honest with a woman right off the bat too because for the first time I didn't have to lie. She knew what I was already, she knew the life, the dangers, the _reality_ , and I didn't need to soften the edges or worry about scaring her away. She might be obviously living as a civilian dance instructor more than a hunter, but she was still a hunter through and through.

A freaking week after that first date and I was imagining happily ever after, dog and all. I was falling, and I was falling hard and fast. First, I wanted her to meet the dog, then I wanted her to meet the brother for real. Then I planned to face Bobby's wrath because I wasn't a complete idjit; he'd very clearly warned me away from sniffing after her, and the girl obviously meant something to him. I figured it was the same fatherly overprotective schtick he had with me and Sammy, and all he really knew of me and relationships didn't go past more than a short, but good time, so the warning was understandable.

What he didn't know though was how much I longed for a good woman in my life. A woman I could dote on and bring flowers to and catch dancing around the living room in one of my shirts when she thought I wasn't there. I'd already seen Anne-Marie dancing around Bobby's in one of my shirts, so now all I needed to do was bring the girl flowers and dote on her, right?

Man, Sam would never let me live it down if he knew I wanted to bring a girl flowers just to see her smile.

But what a fucking _smile_ , and any man who claimed he didn't fall in love with her the first time he made her laugh was a fucking liar. The uninhibited way she smiled or laughed lit up her whole face like she was my own personal sunbeam, and when she laughed, like, really laughed, she threw her head back and was completely unashamed to show her mirth. The fact that I could make her laugh like that made me feel like I could rope her the freaking moon if she asked me to.

Anne-Marie was almost too good to be true. She was beautiful inside and out, genuinely sweet, and funny. Honest in a way that made me be straightforward in return. She was way too good for a bum like me, and I prayed to God she never realized it.

"Hey!" The smile that graced her features warmed me to my toes and I truly felt like I didn't deserve it when I jogged up to her, a full twenty minutes late now.

"I'm so sorry, I was looking for something I wanted to bring today and lost track of time," I apologized, running a hand nervously through my hair, worried she was going to be super pissed I was so late.

She didn't stop smiling as she pushed up on her toes and pressed her warm, soft lips to my cheek in greeting, but her expression was a bit puzzled when she settled back down on her heels.

"I hope you found whatever you were looking for, I was getting a little worried," the last part of her statement was teasing, but I realized that I probably should have called.

"Yeah, no, I totally didn't," I chuckled in acute embarrassment still scratching at the back of my head, "sorry I didn't call to let you know I was running late either, I got a little flustered when I couldn't find Dakota."

Something shifted in her eyes, and her voice was a little strained when she repeated, "Dakota?"

"Yeah, my dog," I clarified, but the sudden guarded expression in her eyes didn't lift and I stilled, dropping my hand. There was a little panic starting to well up in me because if she didn't like Dakota I wasn't sure what the hell I was gonna do "well, you know, Bobby's dog really. The big black one he always has with him? I know I haven't brought her along before, but usually, that dog and I are like this."

I crossed my fingers to emphasize my point and after a long moment, she blinked. I was completely unprepared for her to suddenly throw her arms around my neck with a totally delighted laugh and hug me like I had just told her the best news she had ever heard. When she pulled back to look at me, I was a little worried to see that her eyes looked a little wet, but she was still grinning from ear to ear when she grabbed my face in both her hands and gave me an enthusiastic kiss.

"I can't believe you were late because you wanted me to meet your _dog_."


	13. Vamps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys were sloppy and got grabbed by some Vamps they were hunting.

To say the situation was grim was more than a little bit of an understatement. We watched Bobby get shoved to his knees before us where we were beaten within an inch of our lives and more than a little securely bound. He grimaced at the rough treatment, casting a worried glance at me and Sam before looking back at the Vamp that had circled around to stand before him. We hadn't done nearly enough homework when we stumbled across this nest, and the little trio of vamps we had discovered turned out to have about five more in their little group, catching us totally unaware when we'd thought we'd cornered them in a rail yard. Now we were about to pay the price for that mistake, and I was just hoping we could figure out how the hell we were even gonna get out of this alive now.

"I always like killing hunters," the Vamp said darkly, peeling back his lips in a grotesque grin as his fangs extended as he looked down at Bobby on his knees, "It's such a sweet satisfaction to see you realize you're nothing but meat bags in the end."

"Is this your Daddy?" One of the female vamps teased us as she stepped forward and pulled Bobby's head back to expose his throat, "Did he come all the way out here to save his little boys?"

Bobby didn't say anything but just glared up at the Vamp standing in front of him defiantly, although I could see the nervous sweat beading at his temple.

"Don't you touch him," I heard Sam growl lowly from where he was tied up at my back, "don't you fucking _dare_."

"Or what?" The female vamp laughed, letting go of Bobby with a rough shove to saunter over to where we were bound on the earthen floor, squatting down to look at Sam as she taunted, "What are you going to do, _human?_ "

I opened my mouth to tell the bitch to fuck off when a low tone reverberated through the wooden building, getting everyone's attention. The air suddenly felt weighted and almost electrically charged as I turned my head to see the source of the noise. I had to blink because logically I knew what I was seeing was Dakota, but the Dakota I knew wasn't nearly so... terrifying.

She stood in the doorway, her large form almost unnaturally still as she continued to growl in a manner that I could feel in my very bones from across the room. Her hackles were raised, and it was obvious as she took her first step forward that her every muscle was coiled and ready to spring into action as her long teeth gleamed almost unnaturally, looking too white and sharp in the ferocious setting of her face. With barely a glance cast at the three of us, her eyes seemed to be all for the Vampires that had captured us.

Much to my surprise, their attention seemed to be suddenly equally focused back on her.

"Find your own prey fleabag, these are ours." The female vamp snarled as she shoved violently to her feet, totally forgetting about harassing us for her amusement, her face furious as she looked at Dakota.

The dog speared her with a glare and curled her lips back even further, taking another carefully controlled step forward. Anyone could tell that the dog was about to attack at any moment, and the female vamp was livid at the thought.

"You wouldn't try to take us all on, you _bitch_ ," the Vamp before Bobby growled, but there was something in his voice that made me realize he was actually _scared_  of Dakota.

The big animal turned her attention very deliberately onto him and took another measured step forward, almost as if she was challenging him. Bobby was watching the whole exchange, his face stricken and pale, but he didn't say anything as he watched his dog dare an entire room full of vampires on her own. When she took another step forward it seemed to be too much for the female vamp, who threw herself at the dog with a scream of rage. With a solid tackle, the two tumbled behind some of the crates that littered the area, but the sounds of the scuffle only lasted a second before everything went way too quiet.

"Bonnie?" the male vamp called.

Movement and the sound of dragging was the only response he got as Dakota stepped out of the shadows again, and I swallowed at the sight. She had the female vamp in her jaws, jaws which were completely closed around the obviously crushed neck of the now dead-eyed woman, as she dragged the body along as if it was absolutely nothing weightier than her favorite rope toy. None of the vamps moved a muscle as she stepped closer and then spit the body out of her mouth as if it was foul tasting, the head of the female vamp almost completely severed from the strength of Dakota's jaws. The male vamp looked both murderous and terrified as he swallowed looking at the dead woman now at his feet.

I watched the big dog continue to stare at the vampire just waiting for the right moment, and when he made the mistake of retreating one foot back, the whole room exploded into chaos. A noise I had never heard Dakota make before boomed like an echo of thunder through the room as she launched herself with a feral ferocity I had only seen once before at the vamp, the others throwing themselves at her as noises that sounded like they belonged in the very pits of hell bounced off the walls. Bobby didn't waste the opportunity to scramble over to us, his hands working feverishly on the knots that bound us until we were free as every vamp focused on the animal ripping them apart. He cast a glance back at the writhing morass behind us that Dakota was in the middle of, but didn't pause for long as he threw our arms over his shoulders and struggled to help us get to our feet. I was the one he had to drag out because with every step I wanted to turn around and go save Dakota, who most likely had just gotten herself killed to save us.

If I hadn't been so thrashed, I never would have let him lead me out of there without her.

"We have to get Dakota," I gasped through the pain as Bobby leaned me against the side of his truck, fumbling for the door latch.

Bobby looked at me but didn't say anything as he wrenched the door open and started trying to get Sam into the seat.

"Bobby!" I grabbed him, but the look on his face was stricken and his eyes were haunted and heartbroken.

A snapping twig sounded behind us, and I turned fearing one of the vamps had trailed us, only to see the large black form of Dakota materialize out of the darkness. I could see the red of blood on her muzzle, but she no longer resembled the huge monster that had just saved our lives as she stood there panting, her body vibrating with exhaustion. Bobby didn't hesitate as he spun and left me and Sam. He rushed over to her, dropping to his knees when she staggered and dropped down with a grunt. I watched him run his hands over her for injury, and when he didn't seem to find any he pulled the dog into his chest and buried his face in her fur.

"You stupid brat," I heard him whisper, his voice sounding thick and choked, "don't you ever do anything like that again."

She just grunted and licked his face.


End file.
